Dan kicks it in the Land of the Chosen People, Vol. III

I’m writing Volume III of this series as I sit in my aunt and uncle’s yard, with Tom, their delightful pooch, sitting at my feet. Tom is 7 years old, half German Shepherd, half Palestinian, and totally awesome. I, like you, had no idea that Palestinians had their own breed of dog. Interestingly, he was rescued from a shelter. There you have it, a Palestinian given shelter and love from a Jewish Israeli family. Tom also eats all the flowers in the yard and constantly tries to escape, but that kind of kills the analogy, so maybe disregard that. My uncle often refers to the dog as “Tembell”, which is the Hebrew word for “idiot”, I.e. “where’s the idiot now?“ But he says it with affection. Also, to be fair, the dog does seem a bit dim, but he’s happy enough - mostly because he seems, like many dogs, to be skilled at licking his genitals.

By the fourth night, the cabin fever one gets on any family vacation was beginning to set in. My mom’s constant corrections to my Hebrew and reminders to dress warmly, and inquiries as to whether or not I might need some more sunblock were beginning to take their toll. Luckily, that night I was meeting up with Craig, a Canadian buddy who was based in Tel Aviv, for a much needed night of hijinks amongst the clubs and watering holes of that city. “Craig”, whose real name, for security purposes and his insistence on maintaining a “zero online footprint“, shall not grace the pages of this blog, was halfway through a 3-year posting in Tel Aviv. There are few places more inviting than Tel Aviv for a North American single guy, and Craig seemed to be enjoying himself. The evidence of this was perfectly encapsulated by noting the entire contents of his fridge, which consisted of one bottle of beer. That said a lot, I thought. At least someone was doing it right. So we had a fun night out in Tel Aviv, club hopping and meeting the locals, and after a late night and crashing on the couch, Craig dropped me back off in suburban bliss the next morning.

Coming up in volume IV, my sister’s arrival, Jerusalem, and Druze villages…

Dan kicks it in the Land of the Chosen People, Vol. II

I landed in Tel Aviv, and got to my aunt and uncle’s home in Even Yehuda, a town about 30 minutes north of Tel Aviv.

Talk to anyone who has the opportunity to regularly visit Israel, and one of the first things they remark is how impressed they are with the ceaseless construction of new buildings and public works throughout the country - and how this continued campaign of building and urbanization so visibly changes the landscape of the country from year to year. It’s exciting to see, especially considering the dire state of the global economy and the violent regional conflict that continues to threaten the country’s very existence. For sure, Israel has definitely been affected by the depressed global economy, but it‘s not nearly as bad as it is in North America. For starters, the unemployment rate here is still fairly low, at least compared to the epidemic levels of job losses and housing foreclosures in North America. On the other hand, it’s not all roses over here: I can’t remember, for instance, the last time a disgruntled Mexican fired a crude rocket into the backyard of a homemaker in San Antonio, Texas.

My first full day in Israel, I headed with my folks to Tel Aviv and Jaffa, the old city that predates modern Tel Aviv by about 2500 years, if not more. Before I continue, please note that 1) I’m actually going to try to limit my mention of touristy things and information, because that stuff is kind of a given on this trip - Israel is full of important historical shit, and you should buy a book about it, rather than read this blog - actually, you should do both. 2) in the event that I do drop some facts on you about the historical things we did / visited, count on my explanations being either partially or wholly inaccurate - that’s what Wikipedia is for, or maybe a book of facts like the encyclopedia Britannica or a Farmer’s Almanac or a Bathroom Reader.

Having said all that: Jaffa is an old city located within Tel Aviv, and it was an important port in ancient times, used by the Romans, the Mexicans, and Scots, during the time of beaver trapping and the spice trade. It’s more of a town than a city, actually, because it only spans about 4-5 blocks, but the ancient architecture was pretty sweet.

We spent an afternoon walking around the place, and ended our visit with a tasty meal at a restaurant overlooking the mediterranean. After lunch, we walked around Nev Tzedek, kind of like Soho or the Plateau of Tel Aviv: it was a trendy neighborhood where hipsters and artists were slowly being run out by young families and well-to-do yuppies. Luckily, for all the coffee shops in the area, there wasn't a Starbucks in sight - so all was not lost.

Dan kicks it in the Land of the Chosen People, Vol. I

Gordie enjoyed talking on his cell phone. Gordie’s full name was actually Gordie Blackberry, Toronto Businessman Hockey Superfan (or GBTBHS for short). I assigned him his nickname 5 minutes after he got to his seat, 2 rows behind mine, on our Toronto-bound plane. Social etiquette is pretty clear on rules for chatting on a cell phone while in a crowded and confined public space: you don’t do it. If you’re already on your phone when you get to such a space, you finish the conversation and hang up.

But Gordie was a champ, not a quitter. Even after all the passengers were seated and ready for take-off, Gordie went on yapping for another 10 minutes - and just to be clear, he was not phoning in the instructions for emergency quadruple bypass heart surgery. Instead, here was a quick snippet of his conversation: “Sure, Colleen, I know the ref made a lousy call, but that’s hockey, y’know? He’s got 3 more games to play and we’re gonna focus on those.” Really, guy who is obviously from Toronto, still talking on his cell phone as if the passengers unluckily strapped in next to you can’t hear your drivel, is that how you feel about your son’s most recent pee wee hockey game (I‘m assuming it‘s your son‘s game - because if it‘s your own , beer league game that you‘re talking about, and you look like you’re - what - in your late forties, then that’s pretty gay. On the other hand, if you’re talking about an NHL game you caught on TV, that’s actually pathetic.)? No one on the plane wants to hear your ceaseless gum-flapping - so turn off your phone, jackass.

I didn’t actually tell Gordie any of this, obviously, but I did secretly hope the stewardess would suddenly lose control of her beverage cart and that the runaway cart might nail Gordie in the legs, and maybe even dislocate his knee. But that did not happen, and in the end I was glad. Not even GBTBHS deserved such a fate. Instead, I thought how cool it would be if his blackberry endured a direct hit of lightinging such that the phone would melt and fuse permanently to his face. He would be a mutant superhero - or maybe just a guy who would forever regret talking so much on his cell phone.

GBTBHS was the first thing worth writing about on my flight to Israel. He was actually on my flight from Montreal / Toronto, after which I would connect to Tel Aviv. My layover in Toronto was 3.5 hours, which would normally be brutal if I hadn’t been so lucky to have scored a pass into the Air Canada VIP lounge. Nothing really cuts the boredom of waiting for a flight - or the agitation of dealing with ass-hat fellow passengers - like complementary wine, cheese, and wifi.

I know what you want to ask, so I’ll spare you the awkwardness and go ahead and answer your question preemptively: Yes, it is totally acceptable to surf for porn in an airport VIP lounge, but - and this is key - you need to have a glass of wine in your hand while you’re doing it. Seriously, beer won’t do it - it’s just not classy enough. Whiskey in a highball is just old man-creepy. But wine works. I can’t explain it but holding a glass of wine cuts through the perversity of the act of leering at internet smut like a hot knife through butter. Go ahead, try it in your own, shared dwelling - the exchange with your roommate or Significant Other should go something like this:

Roommate/Significant Other: Hey - are you looking at porn right now?

You: -glug, glug, glug- I am indeed. There are some excellent things featured on Youporn today.

R/SO: That’s disgusting and you should be ashamed of yourself. Wait - are you drinking wine?

You: It’s a Shiraz. Kendall Jackson, actually. Go grab some, I’ve opened a bottle in the kitchen

R/SO: Oh….Actually I think I will if you don‘t mind.

You: sure, go for it, and please knock next time.

And…SCENE.

Enjoying a glass of wine - and not, I will emphasize, a whole bottle (as drinking a bottle by yourself suggests a distinct lack of self control, which would dovetail nicely into the scenario of you looking at online porno in the first place) - really shows you to be a connoisseur of the finer things - a patron of the arts of your choosing, if you will. If having a glass of wine while admiring the nude bathers depicted in a Monet painting is so right, then why is enjoying a glass of pinot noir while taking in a viewing of “2 girls, 1 cup” so wrong? Exactly.

I feel like I may have digressed a bit here. I'll talk about Israel in my next post.